


On the 5th day of March

by BflyW



Category: Original Work CVS awareness
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BflyW/pseuds/BflyW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Jason is the owner of the local pastry, and Jack is a student at the local college. This is the story of how he become both Jason’s employee and boyfriend, and how he has a secret he keeps from Jason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PART ONE

**4 years ago**  
  
 _“You know we can’t help you, right?” The doctor looks him straight in the eyes, forcing Jack to accept the truth behind the words. He doesn’t want to believe it – it can’t be true. Jack fights the tears that press on; he doesn’t want to cry in front of the doctor. What can he do now? Who can help him now, when the doctor can’t? Is there really nothing that can be done?  
_  
 **now  
**  
Jason takes a look around to see if everything is in place before he turns the key and locks the door. The shop isn’t large, but it has tradition and a large place in the locals’ hearts. It’s been there as long as most of the inhabitants can remember, and he wants to make sure that it’ll be a part of this town’s future as well.  
  
A few years ago it was a close call. He was on the verge of closing the business down, and if Kate hadn't proposed the idea of adding more coffee on the menu, and shifting focus to more sandwiches and less pastry, he doesn’t think they would be where they are today.  He had worked with the franchise to set up how much of their selection he could change without breaking the deal they have. He had leased a coffee machine and taken Kate and himself on a weekend course in coffee-making. They had divided the area of responsibilities, he is in charge of the assortment of baked goods, and Kate handles the coffee supply. She has tested, added and removed coffee drinks, and today they have a total of seven variations on the menu.  
  
The added caffeine supply, and a selection of affordable sandwiches, had increased the number of students crossing the threshold and the numbers are finally high enough that they can consider hiring more help on Saturdays.

~*~

Jack grabs his bookbag and hurries out the door. He usually gets up early to take a short run before the school, but today he didn’t have time. The alarm didn’t go off this morning, and he is late; late for school, and late in making lunch.  To save time he decides not to bring lunch from home, but to grab one at Miranda’s when he gets time. His classes in Business and law ethics start in less than 15 minutes and it takes him 13 minutes to get there. He has classes back to back all day, and he hopes he’ll have time to get some lunch in-between. Hopefully professor Larsson will let them out early today, like he quite often does.  
  
He grabs a banana and an apple from the kitchen, and if he’s lucky, there's still a protein bar in his book bag from a few days ago. That will have to do until later.

~*~

Jason is about to close the door when he sees Jack Holmes running to get to the shop before it closes. He stops by the shop at least twice a week to buy the sugary warm milk he calls coffee, and sometimes a sandwich. Often he takes the coffee to go, but if he buys a sandwich, he usually sits and eats his lunch in. He’s nice to talk to, and really funny, and he’s got a good head on his shoulders.  
  
He is studying to become an accountant, if Jason’s not mistaken.  
  
He doesn’t know Jack well, but they have met a few times at  parties here and there, and even talked a bit at a few of them. He has never actually gotten to know him though, even though he has certainly wanted to. Kate picked up on Jason's little crush though, teasing him about asking Jack out, but he's just never worked up the courage to do it.  
  
 “Sorry, are you closing?” Jack says as Jason lets go of the door.  
  
“Yeah, but come on in,” Jason says, not wanting to turn away a loyal costumer, and two, he isn’t about to turn down the opportunity to chat with him, one on one, without other customers or employees around.  
  
“Thank you,” Jack says, stomping the snow off his feet before he steps inside. “I was hoping you had some sandwiches left, I’m starving. I was meaning to get something at lunch, but it's been one of those days, and I haven’t had time to eat since early this morning.”  
  
“Sure.” He goes behind the counter to get out the last 3 sandwiches that hadn't been sold.  “I’m afraid the selection isn’t large, but we have one Chiabatta with chicken and curry and 2 baguettes with tuna salad.” He places the trays in front of Jack, knowing well that Jack usually goes for the larger chiabatta sandwich rather than the baguettes.  
  
“Great,” he says, pulling notes out of his wallet. He counts the money and starts chewing on his lower lip. “Listen, I’m short one dollar for the chiabatta, would you mind terribly if I owe you a buck? I can come by tomorrow, first thing, and pay you?”  
  
“Tell you what,” Jason starts before he can even think it thought, “I’m about to close up, so why don’t you help me collect all the dishes from the tables and sweep the floors, and I’ll give you all the remaining sandwiches for free?” He wants to bang his head in the counter as soon as the words are out of his mouth, not wanting to seem too desperate about spending some more time with him. But he really wants this chance to ask him out. Well, if he can dig up the courage.  
  
Jack's face lights up. "You sure?"  
  
“Sure,” Jason answers, relieved.  “If you don’t eat them, they will just go to waste, and I can do with some help. I’m really hoping to get home early today, so any help is great.”  
  
Jack nods and grabs the tray to collect the dishes from the tables. They work a few minutes in silence. Jason put the remaining breads and pastries in garbage bags, and fills out the return-sheets to count the unsold goods, before he places it outside by the empty baskets that the delivery guy will collect by the first delivery next morning.  
  
The weather is 14 degrees today, and the cold wind hits him as soon as he opens the door. He could do with a warm cup of coffee before he challenges the weather on his way home.  
  
“Do you want a coffee before I clean the machine and turn it off for the night?" Jason says as soon as he comes into the shop again,” On the house…”  
  
“Sure,” The Jack smiles and puts the tray on the counter. Finished cleaning the tables, he gets the broom and sweeps the floor before taking a stool at the side bar, where he usually has his lunch.  
  
“Thank you,” Jack says as Jason hands him his usual; a white chocolate mocha. “Where’s Kate tonight, I thought she always worked with you on Wednesdays?”  
  
“She used to,” Jason confirms, “but she needed Wednesdays off. So right now I’m alone, I haven’t found anyone to work Wednesdays with me yet. Until I do, you’ll have to deal with just me on your Wednesday run-ins. I’m looking into hiring more help though, someone to work Saturdays and Wednesdays,” Jason says and shows him the note he’s taping up at the door when he leaves tonight.  “Please tell me if you know anyone looking for a job. It isn’t much, but it does leave time for studying.”  
  
“About that,” Jack says and points to the ad, “what do I do to apply for it?”  
  
“You looking for a job?”  
  
“Yeah, in fact I am,” he smiles.  
  
“Well, why don’t we call this a job interview?” Jason says, smiling back at him.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” Jason nods. “Okay Jack, welcome to this job interview.”  


~*~

Jack almost bounces on his way home from Miranda’s. He hadn’t expected to walk home with a new job in his pocket. It’s been more than 6 months now since he had to leave the last one. It had been a good job, working in the book shop, but he had too many sick days.  
  
He’s scared he won’t be able to keep this job, either. But how long should he worry about that? How long does he have to be without symptoms before he can say he is well?  
  
He has been in remission for 4 months now. 10 months of remission is the record so far.  Who knows, maybe this time it will last forever?

~*~

Jason smiles when he finally leaves the shop. It was with great relief that he let Jack out the door before he started the job of balancing the register and counting the money for the deposit envelope.  It’s been a good day, and the income is still up where it needs to be.  
  
He has a short walk to deposit the money, but the bank's s on his way home. He likes to make the deposit himself, and he used to be the only one doing it. He has never had it easy trusting people, had learned early on that he had to do the work himself if he wanted to accomplish anything.  It wasn’t until he collapsed at work one day that Kate was able to convince him that she could be trusted with the money, so that he didn’t have to work every late shift himself.  
  
It is easier to trust his employees with opening and serving the costumers, but balancing the cash register and handling the money is something he wanted full control of.  
  
Sometimes he thinks it must have been much easier for his grandparents. They had each other, and already had a trust much deeper than a work relationship. They trusted each other with their lives, and shared everything with each other.  Everything they did was a combined effort, and that’s why Miranda’s was such a wonderful place for the costumers to come. His grandparents’ love bled into the atmosphere of the shop.

~*~

“You did what, now?” Kate asks bewildered.  
  
“I hired him.”  
  
“You wanted to ask him out, and you ended up hiring him?”  
  
“Yeah,” Jason nods.  
  
“Why, I mean, was that… why?”  
  
“He asked, okay, and he’s good for the job, I think.”  
  
“What about…?”  
  
“I couldn’t not hire him because I have a crush on him. I mean, he knew about the job, he wanted it, he’s good for it, was I supposed to say ‘sorry, but I can’t give you the job, because I have a crush on you, and I really want to fuck you and that isn’t smart if we also work together’?”  
  
“So now you forget about him? Pretend you don’t have a crush? A crush, I might remind you, that's been going on for quite some time, now?”  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
“So you still want to ask him out?”  
  
“I don’t know. Not now. He'll work for me, I'll get to know him better, and I take it from there. But I won’t do anything to risk the job, you know that.”  
  
“I do know that.”  
  
“Yeah. So, I… I just…. I just see what happens, I guess.”  
  
“Yeah, you do that,” she shakes her head and laughs. “My god, Jason, you never make it easy for yourself.”

~*~

It's three weeks before Jack is working alone in the morning for the first time. The first time, Jason worked along with him and showed him the ropes. Jack has to be there two hours before the shop opens for business.  He pre-heats the ovens first thing, and prepares the baked goods. The Kaiser rolls and whole grain rolls bake while the buns and cinnamon buns are rising in the proofing cabinet.  
  
The second Saturday, Jack had worked with Kate, and Jason had worked the last shift of the day.  
  
The day's bread and pastry order was delivered before Jack arrived, and after he puts the Chiabattas into the oven, he arranges the pastries to best advantage in the glass-front display. He racks the bread on the shelves behind the counter before he takes all the empty delivery trays outside the back entrance, for pickup Monday morning. The shop gets two deliveries on weekdays, and the trays will be collected on the first delivery.  
  
Once the Chiabattas are cooled enough, it's time to make the sandwiches--seventy to start with, and then re-filling the display during the day.  
  
Jack is glad to see Kate, ten minutes before the shop opens, and to show her that all the preparations are done correctly. He hadn’t expected he would love to work here as much as he does, especially working the morning shift. Getting up early in the morning is not a problem for him, he is a morning person, but he hadn't thought he would like the solitude. He is a social person, he loves to talk and entertain. So the thought of working two hours totally alone to get everything ready for opening didn’t sound like something he would enjoy. But he does. He likes filling up the empty display counters with food for customers to buy, and he loves watching the pastries being transformed from pale and frozen lumps of dough to golden treats to serve the customers.  
  
He likes to see the shop waking up every morning, from turning on the lights to heating up the ovens, brewing the first cup of coffee, and opening the front door to let the people in. He, it turns out, loves to work in a customer service job.

**~*~**

On Wednesdays Jack works alongside Jason. He starts just before lunch hour, and gets off work when Jason closes the shop. He helps Jason tidy everything up, but goes home when Jason balances the register.  
  
“Are you serious?” Jack gapes at Jason one Wednesday, when there is finally a little break in the waves of students coming in for lunch. “For real?”  
  
“Yes, for real!”  
  
“You have never played guitar hero?”  
  
“No, I have never played guitar hero.”  
  
“Dude!”  
  
“What?”  
  
He can’t believe it. He thought everyone had done that. “Oh, you have to try. I don’t mind which pile I have to dig it out of, I haven’t played it in a while, but you are trying guitar hero. Damn, what rock have you been living under?”  
  
“I’ve had plenty of more important things to do – like keeping this shop alive so that you can have some place to actually work, instead of playing videogames. And when I say work, I mean actually work, not mocking your boss!”  
  
“Okay, okay, okay,” Jack laughs and holds his hand up in defeat. “No more mocking. But you and I, we have a date with guitar hero - tonight, after you’ve closed up.”

~*~

It's not until he’s on his way home he realizes what short notice he’s given himself to clean the place up before his guest arrives. Thank god he's usually pretty tidy.

~*~

  
Jason arrives carrying a pizza and a six-pack of beer.  
  
“Hey,” Jack says, opening the door. “Come on in.”  
  
“I come bearing gifts,” Jason says and hands Jack the pizza. “Hope you’re hungry.”  
  
“Always,” Jack says and laughs, “I ate three sandwiches the first time we met. That should have tipped you off.”  
  
Jason looks around the apartment. It’s rather small but with an open living room-kitchen area that makes the space feels wide. While the entrance side of the building faced a concrete wall, with train tracks  just on the other side of  the wall, the view from the living room is to die for.  
  
From the living room window Jason has a view toward the marina, empty of boats now, the water partially frozen. To the left of the marina he can see the riverside walk toward the town center, though from here the view is obscured by the large building of the university library.  
  
“What a view,” Jason says and keeps watching.  
  
“Yeah, it’s quite something,” Jack says, coming up beside him. "I can lose myself in that view sometimes. Never expected to have a view of the bay while I'm studying, but the rent is actually not that bad.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah, having the tracks just a few feet away, close enough to shake the building every time a train passes, kind of lowers the price. I don’t mind much. I'm hardly home during the day, and I can sleep through anything. There’s only a couple of trains that pass during the night.”  
  
“Sweet.”

~*~

Jack's smiling when he goes to bed. He had a great time with Jason today, playing guitar hero into the wee hours. They had played and smiled and laughed, and ended up talking about anything and everything. He learned that Jason grew up in Texas, a middle child with an older brother and younger sister, just like himself.  
  
When Jack asked why he took on the job of managing the pastry shop, Jason said it was what his grandma would have wanted him to do. He told Jack how he had worked day and night the first few years, just to break even. How he had organized the shop's entire inventory, repaired and updated the interior to make it more modern. He explained how he had roped Kate into sharing the project with him, and how he was determined never to give up on his shop. He told him how happy he is, now that he's found his dream, and how lucky he feels, that he's able to do what he loves. And how happy he is that Jack wanted the job, and that he's very pleased how well Jack's doing.  
  
 Jack smiled to himself, glad that the shop had brought Jason to this part of the country, because Jack had to admit to himself that he is starting to have feelings for his boss. And that thought scares him more than he will admit. That’s another reason not to let Jason down.

~*~

“So, Jack,” Jason says. The shop is almost empty, and the few customers are sitting far away from the counter, all engaged in their own conversations. “Mind me asking why you are only on your second year of college?”  
  
Jack hates that question, even if it’s a fair one. He always tries to avoid it. “I guess I just needed time to find out what I really wanted to do,” he says, bending the truth a bit further than one probably should. He has used this line for a long time now though, so he doesn’t even bat an eye any more before saying it.  
  
Six years earlier, he had faced his first episode of vomiting. The first day he fell ill, he thought had probably eaten something bad, maybe the kebab on the way home from the concert the night before.  
  
The second time, though, he hadn’t had anything unusual to eat in a few days. And the third time, he started noticing a pattern.  
  
Halfway through the second semester, he had at least one sick day every week, and by the end of the first year, he realized that unless this vomiting ended, he would not be able to get through school. He had to stop studying long enough to get this under control, so that he didn’t end up paying for a full education, without actually graduating.  
  
The next two years were spent trying to keep a job, but losing too many of them because he was out sick too often. Thankfully, his parents had always made sure he had good health insurance, and in the end he ended up receiving a temporarily disability benefit, one that lasted until he had been in his first remission for more than five months and was considered well by the insurance company's criteria.  
  
It had been nearly three years before he got to that point.  
 _  
_The truth was, he spent much of that time thinking about what he really wanted. He had decided early on that he wanted to be a teacher. It had always been his dream. He was truly inspired by his mom, and the way she had always talked about how wonderful it was to shape young minds.  
  
That dream was crushed when he was eighteen, though, when he realized that  a job where you need to be on top of lessons and your students' progress, as well as being aware of problems keeping them from doing their best, all the time, was more demanding  than he could manage.  
  
Burying one dream was tough. But it turned out he didn’t have to look far for a second dream, he could just look to his other parent. His dad’s job is definitely not the most inspiring in the world, accounting usually isn't. But Jack had always loved numbers, and being an accountant was not farfetched for him. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. He had numerous conversations with his father about working as an accountant from home. His dad has started his own company with a friend more than thirty years ago. Some people might think it a cop-out to choose your career with the safety in knowing you could always work for your dad’s company, and schedule your workday around your health issues. Jack calls it being realistic, and a consequence of being ill.  
  
“Fair enough,” Jason says. “I never could decide myself, and before I knew it, I had a pastry shop, and that was it.”

~*~

Jason hadn’t   planned to take over his grandparents’ business. Nothing was further from his thoughts. In fact, he was flirting with the idea of becoming a physical therapist, but he hadn’t yet decided for sure.  
  
He started helping granny in the shop to earn and save up some money for school, and had just--stayed on. She refused to retire, even though she deserved some peace and quiet in her old age. But she would have none of that, she said, and as long as she was the boss, no one could make her retire. More than likely though, Jason knew, it was in the shop where she felt closest to his grandpa.  
  
Grandpa Mike had started the shop in the mid-fifties, with only a few bucks in his pocket, but more than enough talent, and determination to build a business. His goal in life was to secure a future for his wife and their two young children. Jason’s mom had been a newborn, and her older brother about to start his first year in school. Times were tough for a young family.  
  
He knew that there was a family history of heart disease, and he also recognized the early signs of it. They weren't severe enough that he expected a near death, but they were enough to prevent him getting insurance coverage. Instead of letting it get him down, he worked methodically to build a business that would provide for his family, should he not live to do so himself.  
  
Thanks to good luck, he did live to see his children grow up. He lived to see his grandchildren born, as well.  Jason vividly remembers his grandfather. He also remembers his death at age fifty-seven. Jason was seven, the day grandpa Mike passed away.  
  
Grandma Miranda didn’t let her Mike’s death stop her from continuing his work. The shop closed the day he died, and the day after, and even a few hours the day of his funeral. Other than that, the shop has never been closed on a normal working day. Not until Miranda herself died, suddenly, at the age of sixty-eight.  
  
Suddenly the shop was without an owner, and the family was unsure what to do. Neither Jason’s mom nor her brother, his Uncle Jim, lived close by, and neither of them, or their spouses, had any interest in taking over the business. They had their own careers and lives, miles away. Jason was the only one among the children and grandchildren that had ever worked in the shop and he was also the only one not currently studying or working elsewhere.  
  
They asked Jason to move temporarily, and run the shop until they could find a permanent solution.  He was only eighteen at the time, far from old enough for such a responsibility. But he knew that he had his family’s support.  
  
What he found when he arrived was a shock.  
  
Instead of the healthy business they all believed it was, he found   the shop on the verge of bankruptcy, despite what looked to be an adequate income.  It only took him a few weeks to track the money leak. It turned out that a disloyal employee had embezzled cash from the register for years. An employee Miranda had trusted with the bookkeeping had been embezzling for years, siphoning funds from the shop into his own pocket.  He had taken brazen advantage of an old woman's faith in him, and one of the first tasks Jason had to do as a business owner was to sack someone twice his age, who had worked there for years. Though it was difficult, it made him realize that putting the shop first was something he would like to do. He wanted to save this shop.  
  
He only meant to stay until the business was profitable again, and then hire a manager who could take care of running it. Instead, the desire to build it up again was kindled. He had long conversations with his family before he made up his mind, but when he reached his decision, he was one hundred percent determined on what he wanted to do. He used the money that had been earmarked for his education, now he'd decided not to go to college, and the small business loan the bank granted him, to buy the shop from his mom and uncle.  During the first couple of years, when the shop’s profits were balancing close to zero, he could only afford one employee, and he only took out a meager salary for himself.  
  
Kate was the only one from his grandmother’s staff who stayed. And he needed her help. He sat her down one day and laid out his plans for the shop for her. He told her that he would start the business from scratch, that with new capital, and eventually new staff, he would breathe life into his grandfather’s dream again. But to do this, he needed her help. He offered her 20% of his business against her willingness to work hard, for long hours, and for hardly any money, until they started showing a real profit.  
  
As the shop's profits increased, he could hire more help, and today, twelve years later, he has a blooming business, and a business partner he trusts with his life.

~*~

“Why don’t you ask him out?” Kate asks Jason. The day has been busy, with customers in and out all day, until it suddenly calmed down about an hour before closing. Tuesdays aren't usually this busy, and they had not been prepared for the rush.  Kate had run back and forth to keep up with the coffee orders, and Jack had stayed for almost two hours to help out when he came in for his usual lunch sandwich, when he realized how heavy the customer traffic was.  “He’s an employee,” Jason says as he busses tables. He had tried to clear them continually throughout the day, but with the constant demand for service at the counter, they had kept falling behind. “Didn’t we talk about this when I hired him?”  
  
“Yes, yes - I know, but I don’t see your crush disappearing any time soon.”  
  
“It will just make it awkward if it doesn’t work out.”  
  
“It won’t come to that,” Kate shakes her head.  
  
“You don’t know that. No one can guarantee that.”  
  
“No you’re right, no one can promise that. But I know you!”  
  
Jason opens his mouth to deny, but Kate interrupts him before he has the chance to answer. “I’m gonna say this, because I know you are too polite to. You handled me perfectly. You knew that I had a crush on you, and you let me down so easily. You gave me space and you gave me time to get over you, and you never let me feel like a fool, and you did that because that’s how you are!”  
  
“But that’s….”  
  
“No! It doesn’t matter. I know that that was different, but the point still is that you don’t let things get awkward. If things don’t work out between Jack and you, then you will handle it, I know that. I trust you, and I trust Jack. Neither of you will let things get weird. Both of you have too much respect for each other to do that.”  
  
“But,” Jason starts to say, but stops as Kate raises her index finger to shut him up.  
  
“Listen, Jason. You wouldn’t even consider this if you didn’t really like him. Just the fact that you even think about it is proof that you've got it bad for him. You can’t deny it.”  
  
“No, you’re right.”  
  
“And I know that if you start something with Jack, you will be careful, because you wouldn’t want to risk anything.”  
  
He can only nod again. She is right.  
  
“So even if you do take a small risk asking him out, it’s gonna be worth it. He can be _the one_ for you. Wouldn't it be sad to miss out on that, just because you're afraid it will be a bit awkward for a little while if it doesn’t work out?”  
  
“You are such a romantic.”  
  
“No, I’m realistic. I know that potential boyfriends don’t show up all the time, and I know that it almost never fits into your plans. So I say go for it when you have the chance. I don’t want to have to invite you over for dinner every Christmas when you’re an old grumpy man, just because you never took the chance at love. Okay?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Good.”

~*~

It takes Jason another four weeks before he finds the courage to ask Jack out. It’s Jack’s last week of summer vacation before school starts again. He has spent hours in the shop, either working extra hours when the other part-time students have gone home for the break, or simply sat at the side bar chatting with Jason while Jason at least pretended to get some work done.  
  
It is pretty obvious to both of them, that they are willingly flirting. Yet, neither of them has taken that first step. It feels scary crossing that line. Making up his mind to actually say the words is like pulling off a bandaid, very slowly. “Here we go,” he says to himself, finishing Jack’s excuse for a coffee. He has already given him his sandwich and the sounds of enjoyment Jack makes while eating it shouldn’t be legal. Jason sets the cup in front of him and asks, as casually he can, if it would be awfully strange if they had dinner together.  
  
“Dinner, as in a date?” Jack asks, almost forgetting his sandwich for a minute. Jason added his extra onions though, so there is no way Jack could completely ignore it. Not even when being asked out by his boss.  
  
“That was the thought,” Jason says, hoping he hasn’t read the signals wrong and just screwed up  their working relationship and their growing friendship.  
  
Jack takes another bite, chewing   before he nods and mumbles something that could be interpreted as a yes.  
  
“Was that a yes? And haven’t you learned not to speak with your mouth full of food?”  
  
“Yes,” Jack nods again.  
  
“Yes, you want to go out with me? Or yes, you have learned not to speak with your mouth full of food?” Jason asks. “Strike that, you have clearly not learned not to speak with your mouth full, so that was a yes to going out with me, wasn’t it?”  
  
“Yes,” Jack laughs, and throws his head back. “And I have learned not to speak with my mouth full, I just choose just to ignore it now and then.”

~*~

Kate is working the last shift, and Jason is on his way to his first date with Jack.  Not for the first time, Jason doubts his decision on asking Jack out.

~*~

Jack feels butterflies in his belly. It’s been a long time since he was on a date, especially with a guy he likes as well as Jason. Going out with the boss is probably not the best idea, but he's willing to throw caution to the wind, because…well, because it’s Jason.

**~*~**

Jason picks him up just before six. Jack opens the door to the sight of Jason dressed in dark blue jeans, a green button down, and dark sunglasses. Jack wants to go straight up and kiss him, but he settles for a smile and a hello. He locks his apartment door and they walk down the two flights of stairs to the street.  
  
“Thought I might take you to the farmer’s market,” Jason says, and tilts his head. “I’ve got hickory smoked pulled bbq beef in the slow cooker at home, and thought maybe we could pick up some fruit, maybe berries, for dessert.  What do you think?”  
  
“Love it,” Jack says and smiles. His mouth waters by the thought. “God, it’s been a long time since I tasted pulled beef. What kind of sauce did you use?”    
  
“I started with some barbeque sauce, mixed in some apple cider vinegar, Worchestershire sauce, and threw in some spices--garlic powder, Dijon mustard--I can’t really remember everything now. But I hope you like it…”  
  
“I’m sure I will. It sounds wonderful. Do you mind if I bring some wine to go with it? It's just inside.”  
  
“Sure,” Jason says and stops to wait.  
  
“Be right back,” Jack says, and runs back up the steps, while Jason waits at the front door of the building.  The wine was a gift from his brother last Christmas, an exclusive bottle of wine. But Jack hadn’t had a good occasion to open it, until now.  
  
“Got it,” he holding up the bottle when he rejoins Jason downstairs.  
  
Jason takes it and looks at the label; it’s a California Merlot. "Nice," he says.  
  
Jack hopes so, he doesn’t really know much about wine.

~*~

It’s been six weeks since he and Jason had their first date, and things have moved along great since then.  
  
They had gone to the farmers' market. They had eaten and drunk wine, and as the night progressed, they had cuddled and kissed. They had taken things slowly, neither of them wanting to risk their friendship, or their working relationship, but they had taken it so they knew both of them were on the same page, and neither stepped over a line they couldn't go back from.  
  
They were happy.  
  
Since the first date, they have been on three more, and they spend more and more time talking, texting, or just spending time together.  
  
Sometimes they spend time at Jack’s place, watching TV or making out, and sometimes they're at Jason’s.  
  
Jack would say life is perfect.

~*~

Jason's aware of Jack sweeping the floor while he's counting the money in the cash register. Since they started dating, Jack's taken to staying until Jason is finished balancing the register, and then walks with him to the bank's night deposit.  Balancing the register while Jack tidies up the shop saves him time, compared to waiting to balance out until Jack left the shop. It isn’t much, no more than 15 minutes, but those 15 minutes are golden. It doesn’t hurt, either, that he gets to spend that time with his boyfriend.  
  
He is comfortable with the thought now, that he and Jack are boyfriends. They haven’t really talked about it, what label they should put on the relationship, but he knows that they are on the same page. It’s easy, much easier than he would have thought. None of his fears have come true. It isn’t awkward at work and they don’t seem to have trouble balancing their private and work lives. He has never been put on the spot where there’s a conflict between being Jack's boyfriend, and his employer. But if he ever was, he is confident that he and Jack would work it out.  
  
“Are you ready to leave?” He asks Jack as he closes the register drawer and keys  it off. He has collected all the money, filled in the form, and zipped it all in the deposit envelope. All that's left to do is turn off the lights and walk out of the shop. Floor swept, garbage collected and put out for pickup in the morning, and everything in place, Jack answers, "Yeah, I'm ready."  
  
  
It isn’t until Jason has locked the door behind them, and they've left the shop behind that he lets his hand slip into Jack’s. It’s time to be boyfriends again.

~*~

It’s a Tuesday morning when Jack wakes up feeling the far too familiar piercing pain in the belly and his back.  
  
The band of pain tightens around his upper midline, spreads as though his belly is on fire, stabbing like a knife in his back. When he sits up, the belches come too hard and loud to stifle, and the foul taste and stench of rotten eggs make him want to vomit. Saliva floods his mouth, and the tingling in the jaw joint warns him that nausea is imminent.  
  
He gets up on shaky legs and runs to the bathroom, grabbing the boxes of medication from the cabinet. He drops a couple of the boxes and curses when they roll underneath the sink. He doesn’t have the time to waste. He kneels to reach the boxes, and gets out the disposable glasses he keeps in the cabinet for crises like this. He fills a glass with water, but his gorge rises before he can even open the first box of medication.  The water glass falls as he reaches to fling up the toilet seat, and he vomits violently: once twice, and a third time, before he can breathe again. He wipes his mouth with a wad of toilet tissue, flushing the toilet with his other hand, desperately trying to get rid of the awful smell. He braces his arms on the toilet rim and leans his head on his shaking arms. The nausea's not done with him, he doesn’t have much time. His legs are shaking when he retrieves the bucket from the hall closet and sets it in the shower, turning on the faucet and using the hand shower to get water into the bucket. The bottom at least is covered when his belly starts to burn.  He turns off the faucet, but winces when the handset hits the shower floor. He lifts the bucket out, but has to set it down quickly, just managing to get his boxers down in time to get his butt on the toilet before the diarrhea starts. He has to lean forward and stretch to grab the bucket, holding it in his arms so he can retch into it while his bowels void at the same time. Snot and tears mix with the vomit, and the familiar heavy knot of dread settle in his belly.  
  
 _He can’t go through this again._

~*~

The next 30 minutes are spent either in front of the toilet or on it, with the bucket clutched to his chest. He makes horrible noises and his body feels like it's being turned inside out. He hates puking in the bucket, it makes the smell even worse. After the first wave of diarrhea eased, he was able to run more water in the bucket, empty it all out, and half-fill it again,  so both the vomit and the smell would be diluted. That at least reduces the stench to a manageable level.  
  
After about three quarters of an hour, his stomach is finally empty, and it's been the required fifteen minutes of no active vomiting he needs to take the meds.  
  
The first thing he grabs is the anti-emetic. He pours three Zofran pills out in his hand and swallows them down with as little water as possible. The taste of water will make him sick again, and he needs to not vomit until all the medications take effect. The next box is Imodium, to stop the diarrhea, and then simeticon to dissolve the stomach gas that causes the foul sulphur burps.  
  
He pops a couple of Tramadol into his mouth, along with ibuprofen that will hopefully work until the opioids take effect in a couple of hours. He grabs the antacid as well, and checks to see he hasn’t forgotten anything. When he's sure that he's remembered all the medication, he steps into the shower and turns on the water.  
  
He turns the dial to warm, and then to warmer, then starts the process of laying himself down on the floor. The design of this shower cubicle was the deciding factor when he looked at apartments to rent, and he chose a large shower and a rather small livingroom, over a larger apartment with just a small shower. The need to lie down on the floor with the warm water flowing across his belly is significant to his recovery, and he wouldn’t live in an apartment where he couldn’t lie down in the shower.  
  
Once he’s down on the floor, he wiggles his butt close enough to the wall to place his feet flat on the wall, with his hips and knees in a 90 degree angle. This lets the discs in his back settle into place, and eases the pain in his back. He grabs the shower head and places it on his belly. The water that was left on the floor when he filled the bucket earlier is cold and uncomfortable to lie in, and he swipes the shower head across himself and the floor to replace it with warm water. He also soaks his hair with water so that his hair feels saturated, and won’t gradually soak up water, something he finds strangely uncomfortable.    
  
The feeling of warm water pouring over his belly is heavenly. The pain subsides, and he feels his tense body relax under the heat. After about five minutes, it's pure bliss when the nausea starts to ebb. He lies there until the water starts to feel cold, and then leans up on one elbow to turn the dial to even warmer water. After about 5 more minutes he feel sleep getting closer, and he starts preparing to leave the shower. He dreads the moment the water is turned off, scared that the pain will knock him down again. He sits up and breathes out slowly, relieved when no sulphur burps emerge. He turns off the water, and holds his breath when the cold air hits him. The pain level rises from a grade 1 on the pain scale, to a 3, but it doesn’t rise higher than that. It’s far from the 7 that it reached, earlier.  
  
He grabs the hot water bottles he keeps in the cabinet under the sink, and prays that there's enough warm water left to fill them both. He turns the water to max warm, and doesn’t care about the warning label on the bottle about too warm water in the bottles. He can already see that he has a bruise the size of his palm forming on his belly from the warm water in the shower. A hot water bottle won’t do more damage than that.  
  
As he falls into bed, he sends a thankful thought to the doctor who finally believed him. Now he can hope for hours of sleep.

  
~*~

Today he was lucky. He slept for nearly 5 hours before the pain woke him again.

 

 

~*~

Jack finally gets out of bed around the time he normally would come home from school. The pain is gone, no more nausea, no more vomiting or diarrhea, and finally he is hungry, very hungry. His hands are shaking, and he feels like he’s about to faint. He needs energy, and he needs it now. His body is dehydrated and he needs something to drink right this minute. Coke, he wants coke, but he doesn’t have any. He grabs a glass and fills it with water, and stirs in a spoonful of sugar.  It would be better if the water was warm enough to dissolve the sugar, but he doesn’t have time for the faucet to run hot. He swallows it down, fills it up again, and swallows it all down again. Finally, he can feel the sugar kicking in and he’s no longer on the verge of passing out. Now he’ll have energy enough to make a sandwich. Gone are the particular ways he makes the sandwiches at work. He grabs what he can find, puts it together, and inhales, more than chews it. He doesn’t take time tasting it, his belly is painfully empty. He eats four and a half sandwiches before he feels full. Then it’s time for a shower - a good one this time - one standing up.  
  
Exhausted, he grabs his cellphone and opens the calendar. He flips through the months, finding his way back to the last day he had an episode. “Damn,” he says, “I was 6 days away from a new record.”  



	2. PART TWO

**7 years ago**  
  
 _“What can I help you with?” the doctor says,  looking Jack in the eyes.  
“I’ve been feeling sick lately,” Jack says. “Been throwing up a lot. Like I have the stomach flu. Vomiting, diarrhea, stomach pain. It doesn’t last long, just about a day, but I get it all the time. Like, I don’t know… it started being every couple of months, now it’s every week. I have no idea why.”  
“I’m sure we will figure it out,” the doctor says, and Jack feels relieved. He’s starting to get really sick of this. Literally.  
_  
 **Now**  
  
“Do you want me to get the bag out?” Jack asks the following day as he ties the bag with all their returns closed and tapes the list of returns to it. The bag holds more bread than he has ever seen them return before; it's almost full. The weather has been dreadful all day, and there have been much fewer customers than usual.   
  
“We can get it when we walk out, so you don’t get drenched before we go home.”  
  
“Wish I had a car to get home today,” Jack says, looking out on the rain pouring down. The droplets hit the pavement like bullets and make a river of the street. You don’t happen to have an umbrella in the shop, do you?”  
  
“No, sorry.”  
  
Jack stifles a yawn and looks over at the coffee maker. He regrets not making another cup before cleaning it. The tiredness clings to him, and he knows he has a lot of schoolwork to do when he gets home. He probably should have left thirty minutes ago when his work was officially over, but he enjoys these moments with Jason, when it’s just the two of them in the shop, and they gradually shift from work mode to boyfriends.  
  
“Do you want to come home and order some pizza and catch a movie?” Jason closes the register and makes ready to leave.  
  
“I would have loved to, but I am behind at school. I didn’t finish everything I was meant to do yesterday, and I need to catch up today. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Okay. Sorry to keep you waiting.”  
  
“You didn’t. I wanted to.”  
  
“Okay, let’s go then, out into the rain,” he says and grabs Jack’s hand to pull him in for a kiss before Jack picks up the garbage bag. Jason grabs his Jacket and pulls it tightly around himself before putting the deposit envelope in the pocket and opens the door to the weather outside.   


~*~

  
Jason places one loaf after another in the shelf behind the counter, each one of them freshly baked, with a dark crust sharp enough to cut his fingers if he doesn’t pay attention. There is more bread than they can fit on the shelves, and he leaves some of them on the tray they came in. He’ll restock the shelves later when some of it has sold. The smell of fresh bread always makes him hungry, every day it’s the same. He has learned never to eat breakfast before going to work, but instead he keeps sandwich spreads, butter, and jellies in a small refrigerator in the back room of the shop. Each morning, he runs a loaf through the slicer for him and the staff to eat for breakfast and on their lunch. Kate doesn’t eat that much, so usually he takes the rest of the bread home. Now that Jack works here though, there isn't so much left over, anymore. He usually teases Jack, saying he costs Jason a fortune, now that he doesn’t buy sandwiches for lunch anymore, instead eat the food he himself was meant to have in the evening. But really, Jack gives back so much more than he takes.  
  
Jack hasn’t asked for pay for the extra work that he volunteers to do if lunch traffic is higher than normal when he stops by. He doesn’t get paid for the extra time he spends tidying up the place while Jason closes on Wednesdays. And he doesn’t want to hear about it when Jason tries to bring it up.  
  
“You don’t ask me to do it, I volunteer,” he usually says, and that he would have done it anyway, whether he worked there or not. “I’m not helping my boss, I am helping my boyfriend - there’s a difference.”  
  
Jason looks at the selection of bread and decides on whole wheat today, his grandma’s favorite, and he knows Jack loves it too.

~*~

Jack has to run to get to Miranda’s on time. Lecture ran late and he was held up having to ask the professor for an extension on the next assignment. He missed a few days of school, and has been sick during the days he should have studied at home. There is no way he can reach the deadline on the next assignments and still get a passing grade.   
  
He knows Jason won’t mind that he comes in a few minutes late, but he doesn’t want to give the impression that he takes advantage because he’s the boss’ boyfriend. He wants to be held to the same standards as any other employee. He takes pride in doing just as good a job as before, if not better. He has extra motivation now to do his best for Miranda’s. He feels proud of the shop on his boyfriend’s behalf. He wants to do right by Jason.  
  
He opens the door to the shop eight minutes later than he usually arrives, only two minutes after he's scheduled to start.  “Sorry I’m late,” he says and rushes over to put down his book bag and get ready to work. “I was held up at school, and I didn’t want to take time calling you, so I just ran as fast as I could.”  
  
“No worries,” Jason answers shortly, and Jack looks over to see if he’s mad. He didn’t expect him to be, but this closed off tone is unusual for Jason. But Jason smiles at him and Jack can’t see any anger in his eyes.  
  
“Has it been busy?” he asks, and Jason shakes his head.   
  
“No more than usual.”   
  
He wants to ask what’s wrong, but before he can, he hear the bell above the door chimes, and the first group of students come in for their lunch. One group follows the last, relieves the next and before he knows it, five hours have passed, and it’s nearing time to close. Jason has been acting weird all day. It’s noting obvious, just a little shorter in his answers, and a little less bantering than usual. Jack wonders if he’s done anything wrong, anything other than being late.  
  
“Are you okay?” he says as soon as he has closed the door behind the last customer.  
  
“Sure, why?” Jason asks.  
  
“I don’t know, you just seem off, kind of.”  
  
“Yeah, sorry,” Jason answers. He palms his face. “Guess I’m just a bit blue today.”  
  
“Why?” Jack asks, growing concerned.    
  
“It’s fourteen years today since grandma died, and I just--I guess I miss her. I’m usually not this blue, but it hit me hard this year. You know, remembering watching her work, doing what she built up.”  
  
Jack feels selfish for thinking it had to be about him. Not everything is about him after all. “I’m sorry,” he says, giving Jason a hug.   
  
“Thank you,” Jason whispers in his ear, holding him tight.   
  
He lets Jason go and start sweeping the floor, starting with the floor behind the counter, careful to get all the crumbs hidden under the counter and beneath the rubber fatigue mats. The piles of crumbs are especially high around the bread cutter, and he gets out a new garbage bag to hold the crumbs from in and around the cutter.  
  
Once the floor behind the counter is cleaned he start tidies up the seating area. Jason has already cleared the tables and disposed of all the return goods. All Jack has to do is sweep the floor and put the tables and chairs in place.   
  
Before he cleans the coffee maker while Jason balances out the register, Jack grabs a takeaway cup to start making caffé latte, Jason’s favorite. He fills the espresso in the cup and steams the milk. He carefully pours the steamed milk into the cup and, using a plastic stirrer, makes a heart in the foam, the way he’s seen Kate do so many times for the customers.   
  
“Here,” he says and hands the coffee to Jason. “Have some coffee, with love sprinkled on the top,”   
  
Jason just stares at him, not saying a word. Then he leans over and gives him a peck on the lips. “Thank you,” he says.  
  
“You’re welcome,” Jack says and smiles.   
  
Jason looks at the coffee somberly, and then a smile starts to form on his lips. “You really suck at making latte art, don’t you?”  
  
“I really do,” Jack agrees and starts making coffee for himself,, and makes it a latte for a change.

 

~*~

  
Jack grabs the phone on the third ring. “Hey,” he says, trying to clear his voice.   
  
“Hey,” he hears Jason say in the other end, “how are you feeling?”  
  
“Good,” he lies. “Better.”  
  
“Good,” Jason answers, “are you still up for a movie tonight, or do you want to cancel?”  
  
“No, I’m up for it,” Jack says and cast a glance at the clock. It’s 4.58, they aren’t supposed to meet for another hour and a half.   
  
“Are you sure, because we can do it another time?”  
  
“No, I’m sure,” he says, “this was just…it’s over. Just some stomach bug.”  
  
He had to call in sick to work this morning. Luckily it was Kate’s Saturday to work, and Jason could cover for him, but he still feels like shit, having to cancel on his shift. The episodes are coming closer now, every 7 to 10 days, but he never knows exactly when the next one will hit.  
  
He has started setting the alarm for 5.30 to check for yucky suplhur breath. That has warned him of a few episodes, and he's been able to abort them before it was too late. Most episodes though, still take him by surprise. Now that they’re coming frequently again, he doesn’t wait a minute before medicating himself at the first sign of an onset. He pops the Zofran as soon as the first taste of rotten egg hits his taste buds. That usually aborts the vomiting and avoids the worst of the diarrhea. He often gets away with only one dose of pain meds, and can function close to normally. There's nothing to be done about the fatigue, though, and it starts to bleed energy from his everyday life. He feels like he hasn’t slept in weeks, and his brain functions mostly on autopilot.  Focusing on school is hard, and he has to pull himself together to do his job at Miranda’s. He never has energy left to do anything at home.  
  
So far, he has worked through three shifts at Miranda’s fighting a bloated belly and waves of nausea, and only his strong will has enabled him to focus on his job. Today was the second time he had to call in sick, and he prays that it’ll be his last in a long while. This is how it all started before, when he lost his last job, and the job before that, and he's determined to not let it happen again.  


~*~

Jason hangs up the phone after talking to Jack. When Jack had called this morning, he had sounded really sick. Jason was worried when he’d been woken by the phone at 6:30 AM, seeing Jack’s name on the screen had worried him that something serious had happened to his boyfriend. In the haze of waking up, he had forgotten that Jack had the morning shift at Miranda’s.   
  
Hearing Jack’s voice saying he was sick and unable to work hadn’t eased his worry much, knowing that Jack takes his job seriously, and he is not a person to shy away from his responsibility. If he calls in sick, especially on a morning shift, then something is seriously wrong.  
  
“Do I need to take you to the ER?” was the first question out of Jason’s mouth.   
  
“No,” Jack had said, his voice sounding strained. “It’s nothing dangerous, just….I’m in no shape to work.”  
  
“Are you….”  
  
“I need to hang up, sorry…” Jack had said and then hung up. Fifteen minutes later a text message ticked in, “Sorry. Had to run to the bathroom.”  
  
They had plans to watch a film tonight, and just relax at Jack’s. Jason is a little hesitant going over, in case it's flu or something contagious-- he’s not keen on getting sick himself. But Jack insisted that he was fine, and that Jason wouldn’t get sick, so Jason gave in. There're only so many excuses you can make before you start to sound like a jerk to your sick boyfriend. So he has to trust Jack, that whatever he has isn’t contagious.  


~*~

Jack waits another 30 minutes before he gets up of bed. He would want to sleep another hour or two, but it’s less than an hour until Jason comes over. He has to get rid of the smell and the traces of vomit before then.   
  
He's dragging a little on the way to the bathroom, bumping into the wall a couple of times. He’s so tired he kind of regrets telling Jason it’s okay to come over. But he knows that in less than two hours, he will be fine. It’s almost ten hours since the episode started, and he knows they never last more than twelve hours, at the most. He can do this. He can grit his teeth for a couple of hours.  
  
He gathers the cast off clothes and towels littering the bathroom floor and throws them in the washer. It doesn't matter that they are different colors and fabrics, he sets the machine for mixed clothes and cool water, and pushes 'start.' He kneels, not having enough strength to stand and retrieve the cleaning supplies   from the cabinet under the sink. He pulls on rubber gloves and starts by spraying the toilet with bleach. He sends a mental apology to his environmentally concerned sister for using too much chlorine, but with this much vomit and shit – literally – bleach is the way to go. He uses the brush to scrub the toilet bowl, and under the seat, a sponge that he throws away immediately after, in the waste basket. Then he cleans the outside of the toilet with disposable disinfectant wipes. He always uses disposables; he prefers to throw away all traces of his episodes.   
  
He sprays the room with air freshener – lemon scent – and puts all his medications in the medicine box. Then it’s time for a shower, the third one today, and this time he even washes his hair. He would have liked to dress up and look nice, but there is no energy left in him. He finds clean sweatpants and a t-shirt, and plops down on the couch. He checks his cellphone for the time and sees it’s still thirty minutes before Jason's supposed to show up. He texts, asking him to bring pizza. He’s finally feeling hungry again.

~*~

“Mushroom, ham and peperoni, that okay?” Jason says as he hands over the pizza.  
  
“Great,” Jack opens the lid and takes a sniff. “Great, I’m hungry. Did you bring coke?”  
  
Jason takes off his shoes, hangs up his Jacket, and walks into the livingroom. Jack has set the pizza on the table, and Jason puts the coke down next to it. He goes into the kitchen; Jack's got the plates and is taking down glasses from the cabinet above the sink. Jason opens one of the others to get napkins. He doesn’t see any, and asks if Jack's out of them.  
  
“I think there should be some in there, somewhere,” Jack says, and Jason moves some of the boxes to get a better view. The cabinet is crammed with boxes of dietary supplements, and there's hardly room to find anything behind them. Co-enzyn Q-10, L-carnitine, Magnesium--lots and lots of them. “Geeze, how many does he need?” Jason mumbles under his breath as he moves them to get to the back of the cabinet. There, behind it all, lies one packet of napkins. Pink, with pictures of Disney princesses. “I always knew you were a princess,” Jason grins as he brings them into the livingroom.

~*~

“So do you watch your niece a lot?” Jason asks, eating pizza from a pink napkin.  
  
“Not really. Now and then,” Jack says smiling. “Mostly I just pick her up from daycare, if Jeff or Mona can’t pick her up. But that hasn’t happened in a long time. The napkins are from last April. I had her one weekend when her parents were away, and we celebrated her birthday. Well, it was a week before her birthday, but we decided to have a little extra uncle and niece celebration without parental supervision. I’m afraid I might have gone a bit overboard with the sugar supply, and she might also insist that we do it again next year. I haven’t dared tell Jeff yet, he might cut off my contact with her highness. “  
  
“I know what you mean. I don’t see my niece and nephew as much, since they live in Texas. But damn, when they look at me, and their lip start trembling…. They can ask me anything, and I’ll give it to them. I don’t know how you manage to resist her, seeing her as often as you do.”  
  
“I don’t. She has me totally wrapped around her little finger.”  
  
“So you like kids?”  
  
“I do.”  
  
“You seeing yourself having some one day?”  
  
Jack looks at him, tilting his head. “Yeah, I think I do. What about you?”  
  
“Haven’t thought about it much, but yeah… that would be nice, I think. If that’s in the future for me.”  
  
“Yeah,” Jack says and takes another bite of the pizza. “So what do you say, time for a film?” He hits play on the remote, and the TV comes to life. The opening scenes of The Hunger Games plays out on the screen, and Jason leans back to watch it. He wiggles back so that he can lean his head on the back of the sofa, and he plops his feet into Jack’s lap. Jack grabs one of his feet with his left hand, still holding pizza in his right. He starts stroking his foot, and Jason thinks he could sit here forever. Tired after a long day’s work, he grabs the blanket folded over the sofa’s arm and tucks himself in, going for the maximum amount of comfort. It doesn’t take more than 25 minutes before he falls asleep in the middle of the film.

~*~

“Come to bed,” Jack says and gently shakes Jason awake.   
  
“Huh?” Jason wakes up confused, and shakes his head. “Shit, I fell asleep, didn’t I?”  
  
“Yup.”  
  
“What time is it?”  
  
“It’s only 9.30, but you are tired, I am tired, and I think it’s best if we go to bed.”  
  
“Yeah, alright,” Jason rubs his face and removes the blanket. “I should probably go home,” he says.  
  
“Stay? Please?” Jack asks him. He really wants to lie next to Jason, just to be near him. And he knows that this night is safe. He won’t wake up in pain tomorrow, it never happens two days in a row. And he really, really just needs to feel Jason close to him. Just breathe him in, and lull himself into a bubble of bliss for a moment. “You don’t have to get up early in the morning tomorrow, right? It’s Sunday, and you can sleep in? Lets just sleep in tomorrow, together. Just have a lazy day.”

~*~

Jason steps inside the door to Miranda’s just after noon on his Saturday off. The shop is packed and the room is filled with the noise of bustling life. He sees Mandy, one of the two students only working  Saturdays behind the counter and more than 15 people in line waiting to be served. Most of the tables are occupied, and the few that aren’t are filled with dirty dishes. He grabs the dishes as he passes them, and hurriedly brings them into the small kitchen through the door behind the counter.  The other student working Saturdays, Lisa, is busy emptying the washer, and he adds the dishes on top of the pile of dirty dishes that are already there.  
  
“Hi Jason,” she says, looking up to see who just walked in.  
  
“Hi, busy today?”   
  
“Yeah, there's been a lot of people here, so we should do well today.”  
  
“Great. Need any help?”  
  
“No, I think I got it. It’s a bit chaotic right now, but you know how it is. We always have waves of chaos throughout every Saturday.”  
  
“Good. You know where Kate is?”  
  
“She’s down in the freezer room. We made far too few croissants.  She’s getting out a new carton.”  
  
Jason nods and walks into to the shop front again. He greets every customer as he walks past them and heads toward Jack, who's making sandwiches at the work counter in front of the baking oven. He can see that Jack is warm and sweating, and he isn’t surprised. The oven radiates a lot of heat, and when you combine that with working and being in a room with lot of heat-radiating people, then you have a recipe for sweating.   
  
“Hi Jack, are you doing okay?”  
  
Jack looks up and smiles at him. “Hi Jason. Yeah, I’m fine.” Their eyes had met when Jason walked in, and Jason was glad to see that even if he’s busy, Jack does look up and see the customers as they walk into the shop. He instructs his employees to always make the customers feel welcome, and eye contact when they walk in is an important part of that. Of course, with many customers to serve at the same time, it’s not possible to always see everyone. But in his experience, they manage to make the customers welcome most of the time. “I thought this was your day off?”  
  
“It is,” Jason says, “To be honest, I didn’t have much to do, and I thought I'd just step in to say hello, since I was walking by anyway. I need to speak with Kate though…speaking of,” he says and nods toward the door where Kate's walking through holding a carton of croissants. She smiles as she hurries toward them, and drops the carton on the counter next to Jack.   
  
“Mind putting these in the proofing cabinet once you’re finished with the sandwiches, Jack?” she says, turning to walk away. “I’ll go help behind the counter, unless you want me for something, Jason?”  
  
“Two words?” Jason says, and then nods toward Jack. “Keep up the good work, see you later. Are you coming over later?”  
  
“Yeah, see you after work.”

~*~

“Hey, what’s up?” Kate says as soon as they are in the back room. She grabs the water bottle she left on the table earlier, and takes this opportunity to rehydrate while she exchanges some words with the boss.  
  
“Just checking in. How’s Jack doing? Is he doing well with the rest of them?”   
  
“He’s good. I’ve told you before. He’s always on top of things, and he's good at working independently. Why? Is there trouble in paradise?”   
  
“No, not at all,” he says. “I was just thinking about Wednesdays. I know I said I can work long days, do both the opening and closing that day. And I’m doing okay, I am, but I’m thinking that it’s not completely necessary for me to keep doing days as long. I’m kind of silly aren’t I? Not trusting anyone else with the closing?”  
  
“I wouldn’t say silly…” Kate drags it out, a little.  
  
“No, you’re too polite to do that.”  
  
“No, honestly. You aren’t silly, but it’s a bit sad. Just because…. Jack isn’t anything like that shit Brian, okay? Jack's good, you can trust him. He’s your boyfriend for christsake.”  
  
“I can, can’t I?”  
  
“I think you can, and I think you should. It’s not healthy for you to keep working this much, and I worry about you. I don’t want to see you collapse again. I was so scared for you, you know? I constantly worry about you. I’m not complaining, I’m just telling it like it is. You work too much. I know why, and I respect that, but as much as I love this shop, I love you more!”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“And I would cover more, myself, if I could, but I cannot work hours that long anymore, I need to take care of myself as well. This is not healthy.  I would, if that was what we had to do to make this shop work, but it isn’t. We can afford hiring people to do the hours none of us can do, so _I_ can’t risk my own health just because _you_ can't trust anyone else but me and you. And I don’t want you to do it either. I am sorry, Jason, I am, because I love you. I would do anything to help you out, even if I wasn’t as invested in this shop as I am. I would because you’re my friend. But there’s a limit to how much we can work – both of us. It’s time to let someone else in. And I think Jack is that person.”  
  
Jason takes a deep breath and says “I think it’s time I let someone else in, as well.”  
  
She looks at him, really looks at him, long and hard, not letting his eyes go for even a second. “It was hard for you, saying that, wasn’t it?”  
  
“You have no idea.”  
  
“For the record, I think you are doing the right thing.”  
  
“I love you.”  
  
 She tips her toes and gives him a peck on his lips. “I know you do. I love you too. Now, get out so I can get some work done. Go! Get!”   
  
“Okay, okay, I’m out of here,” he says before he gives her a hug and leaves through the back door.   


~*~

  
  
“Mmmm…don’t wanna get up,” Jason mumbles and places his pillow over his head. “It’s too early.”  
  
“It’s 8:30," Jack says, and pulls the blanket off of him.  
  
“Bitch!” Jason yells and throws himself at Jack to get the blankets back. “Don’t you ever pull the blankets off me!”  
  
“Oh, someone is grumpy.”  
  
“Someone wants to get killed.”  
  
“Someone needs to lighten up.”  
  
“Shut up!”  
  
Jack throws his head back and laughs, and Jason wants to kick him in the chin… or someplace higher up. He resorts to put the pillow over his head again. “Oh, come on Jason – a little smile?”  
  
“Fuck you.”  
  
“I’d love to.”  
  
“Now? Really?”  
  
“Always.”   
  
“Fuck, you're insatiable.”  
  
“Come on.”  
  
“’m tired.”  
  
“Not even a morning wood to take care of?”  
  
“You killed it with the cold shock when you pulled the blankets off!”  
  
“Cuddle?”  
  
“I can do cuddle.”  
  
“Great,” Jack wiggles his way under the blankets, and lays down behind Jason to spoon him. “I love to cuddle.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“I will kill you if you tell anyone.”  
  
“I know you will.”

~*~

“So,” Jack mumbles, “are you still grumpy?”   
  
“No,” Jason says, he’s far from grumpy. He isn’t cold anymore either. Actually, he managed to work up some heat during their early morning cuddling - and after-cuddling activity. Actually, he can see cuddling being introduced to their normal Sunday routine.  “Now I’m really happy,” he says and leans in to kiss Jack. “You know, I kind of like sleeping in with you.”  
  
“Me too.”    
  
“I hate to break it to you, but you have to leave soon,” Jason says, casting a glance at the clock on the side table. It’s less than an hour until Jack has to be at his aunt's for her birthday celebration. Jack had asked if Jason wanted to tag along, but he said he'd rather be introduced to the family on an occasion other than someone’s 50th birthday.  
  
“I know,” Jack says and moves to get up. “You can stay if you like,” he says.  
  
“Nah, I’ll get up and go to my place. Should do some laundry and house work. Can’t even remember the last time I washed the floors.”  
  
“Yeah, me too. Want to join me in the shower?”  
  
“Nah, I'll shower at home, later. Want me to make you some coffee while you freshen up?”  
  
“Yeah, that would be nice.”

~*~

Jason is just about half way through his first cup of coffee when Jack walks into the kitchen. “Have you seen my belt?” he says, lifting some clothes folded over the back of his kitchen chair.  
  
“No, you think you left it in the kitchen?”  
  
“I don’t know. Can’t find it anywhere, and the pants are falling off me. None of my pants fit me anymore.”  
  
“You lost weight?”  
  
“Must have….”  
  
“Can’t see why, with all the food you’re eating.”  
  
“What can I say? I’m a growing boy! – Ah – found it!” he says and grabs it from the top of the piles of newspapers and magazines cluttering the kitchen table.  


~*~

Jason is worried when he finishes the phone call. Jack’s going to be late for work, he isn’t feeling too well.   
  
And he doesn’t know what to think when one of his employees, when Jack, when _his boyfriend_ calls to tell him, not for the first time, that he’ll be a little late because he’s not feeling too well. And it wouldn’t have been a problem if it was once. A day sick, maybe two, and that was it. But it’s not. It’s more often than that. It’s not every week, and it’s not always a full day. But it’s more often than Jason likes. When he asks about it, Jack brushes it off with 'too much stress at school,' or 'it’s just headaches,' or that he has 'probably eaten something bad.'  
  
But none of that can explain how incredibly exhausted Jack looks lately, like he never gets any sleep at all.

~*~

Jack locks himself into his apartment, and throws the book bag on the floor. It’s not even noon, and he has cut the school day short. He couldn’t focus today. He couldn’t even stay awake. He even bought two cups of coffee from the vending machine, and all it gave him was heartburn. He has to face the facts, that his energy level are cut in half, at least. He’s hardly able to manage school until lunch now, and he's not at all doing his share at work, in addition. He has to admit he is failing school this semester.  
  
Shit, he didn’t want this to happen.  
  
He knows he has to talk to the advisor, and cut down on his course load, and the studying. Maybe taking only a couple of classes next semester, and accepting that it will take him yet another year before he finishes.

~*~

“How’re you doing?” Kate asks Jason one day at work. The morning has been slow, and they are working side by side, de-cluttering areas that haves filled up with unnecessary junk over the last few months.  
  
“Good.”  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Why’re you asking?” Jason asks, not sure where she wants.  
  
“You have looked thoughtful lately. Somber. Is anything up with you? With Jack?”  
  
Jason stops what he’s doing, leans back against the counter, and decides that he can’t have this conversation without caffeine. “Want some coffee?”   
  
“Just a tea, please,” she answers and follows him toward the coffeemaker.  
  
He makes their beverages, gives her the tea, and finds a donut for each of them, as well. “So what’s up?” she asks again.  
  
“I don’t know,” he says. “There’s something, and I don’t know what it is.”  
  
“With what? Who?”  
  
“Jack.”  
  
She keeps still and just waits for him to continue.  
  
“Have you noticed anything?”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Like, he’s been different?”  
  
“Sick?”  
  
“Yeah – you’ve seen it?”  
  
“I have noticed. He tries not to show it, but yeah, I’ve seen it.”  
  
“A lot?”  
  
“Sometimes. Do you know what it is?”  
  
“No, he doesn’t want to talk about it. He changes the subject every time I ask.”  
  
“Same with me,” she nods.  
  
“So you have asked him?”  
  
“Yeah, sometimes. When he’s quiet. When it looks like he’s in pain. When he’s completely pale.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“He says he’s okay. I haven’t felt I could pressure him anymore. I thought he talked to you, though.”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Are you worried?”  
  
“Yeah,” Jason sighs. “Yeah, I am. I mean, I don’t understand. I know something’s wrong, and he won’t talk to me, and I don’t understand why. I keep thinking maybe he wants to shield me from it, but, from what? I’m just… what if it’s something really bad? What if? I can’t even think the thought… and then I get scared,” he talks fast and make gestures with his hands underlining all the emotions rushing through his body. “And then I think that maybe it’s nothing at all, nothing to be worried about, and then I get angry at him for scaring me, and then, my God, I can’t even wrap my mind around this. I don’t even know what I think. I just know that trying to talk to him about it is like talking to a wall, and yeah, you know what? I’m angry.” He pauses, and ponders about it for a while. “I’m angry. Goddamn, I’m angry,” he concludes, and walks out of the room.   
  
Stepping into the back room of the shop, he stops all of a sudden, not knowing where to go from there. He turns around and walks right out into the shop again, just to find Kate exactly where he left her, donut and tea untouched. “Thank you,” he says and hugs her.   
  
She hugs him back.

~*~  


December arrives, and Jason decides that Christmas is a happy time, worry is something he can do later.   
  
He and Jack stand close together in front of Miranda’s and watch the mayor light the Christmas tree  on the town square. Jason is working, only stepping outside for 10 minutes during the tree lighting while Kate minds the shop. He asked if she wanted to step outside, but she insisted that being nostalgic was something that belonged to the happy couple. Jack is off work, but has been home studying all day. It’s getting closer to exams, and he tries to read as much as possible. He came down just for the opening of the Christmas street.  
  
The Children's choir from First Methodist Church are singing Christmas carols, the only thing missing is snow falling. Instead there is clear sky and a rather chilly breeze, and Jason regrets not putting on warmer clothes.   
  
“Are you freezing?” Jack says and lifts up Jason’s collar to shield him from the wind. “God, your ears are ice cold. Why didn’t you bring a hat?”  
  
“Because, _mom…_ , I didn’t think it would be this cold.” He swats away Jack’s hands, trying to warm his ears.   
  
“Come here,” Jack says and pulls Jason into his arms.   
  
Jason leans into his embrace, and for a moment he just breathes in the serenity of the scene.  “Here,” he says and gives Jack one of the two cups of coffee he brought outside. “I put lots of sugar in yours, so you better be happy.”  
  
“I am happy,” Jack says and pecks Jason on the side his head. Jason smiles and leans in even more.    
  
“I’m happy too,” he says, and realizes that he means it. “Peace and quiet,” he thinks. “Right now it’s peace and quiet, I can worry later.”

 

 

 


	3. PART THREE

Jason takes down the Christmas decorations, putting them back in the box where he found them. “Have I forgotten anything?” he says, turning toward Jack, who stands at the counter, balancing the register. Jason still hasn’t let him close the shop completely on his own, but he has let Jack balance the register on the last few late shifts that they have worked together.  
  
“There’s no use for you to pay me extra for the time I spend here anyway, helping my boyfriend out, just so that you can feel good about me helping you,” he had said.  
  
“That’s not it,” Jason had answered and then told him about how he had worked himself into the ground a few years ago. “I hit the wall. I literally collapsed at work. Kate found me on my knees struggling to breathe through a panic attack, and the doctor chalked it up to stress. I only worked and slept, and hardly anything of the latter. I didn’t trust anyone with the money, and I didn’t have anyone to do the opening shift. So I did it all by myself. Finally, Kate convinced me to let her help me out more, and we were able to set up a schedule that worked for us. But it isn’t working anymore. It would be good for me if I could let you close the shop some more, without me being here at all. That’s why I’m doing it.”  
  
Jason doesn’t feel the weight of the burden lift from his shoulders though. He has too many questions unanswered, and he doesn’t know if it’s his employee or his boyfriend he is more worried about.

~*~

  
 _Oh, fuck, he feels so sick_. His stomach is burning up, and the nausea is out of proportion. Oh God, he can’t cope.   
  
This is not the way he wanted to spend his Sunday, sitting miserably in a crowded waiting room at the ER. He had slept in this morning and didn’t wake up until the pain ripped him from his sleep. Usually he set the alarm for 5:30 to check for pain and nausea, to try to prevent as many episodes as possible. But he and Jason were out until 3:00 last night, and he really wanted to sleep in.  
  
 _Bad idea._  
  
By the time he woke up, the episode was too advanced for him to be able to prevent it, or stop it. He tried Zofran – in large dosages – and ibuprofen and tramadol. Nothing worked. A few hours in, he was able to stop the diarrhea though, so that he could at least step away from the toilet. Thank god for Imodium.  
  
He grabbed a huge amount of puke-bags and made his way down to the ER.   
  
He hadn’t caught a taxi or the bus, knew that he would throw up too often to do that. He decided that even though it took longer, and he was completely exhausted by fatigue, it was better to go on foot. The usual 15 minute walk took him more than twice that, with all the stops he had to make, both to vomit and to catch his breath. A few times he was afraid he was going to pass out in an abandoned street.   
  
He tried walking the side-streets that were empty of people, so that no one would see him whenever he went into the gutter to puke. Thankfully there had been quite a bit of snowfall during the night, and he used his feet to kick snow over the throw up to hide it.  
  
It’s gross.  
  
He hates it.  
  
Sitting in the waiting room is torture. It takes too long, and it’s too much noise there.    
  
“Please, is it going to take much longer?” Jack approach the desk again, “I can’t wait much longer.”  
  
“Please, sit down sir,” the woman behind the desk tells him.  
  
“God, can’t you…” He crunches down in pain and has to close his eyes and focus on his breathing.  
 _Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out._   
  
“Sir, will you come with me please?”    
  
Jack looks up and sees a security guard grabbing his arm. Strange, he hadn’t even felt him touching him.  
  
“Oh, God,” Jack exhales.   
  
“Wait for your turn, please,” the security guard tells him, and Jack only nods.  
  
He’s regretting coming here. If they can’t help, then why would he be here rather than in his bed? Shit, he hates this. He’d rather be miserable in his own bed.   
  
_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  
God, I can’t do this anymore. Please, help me. Fuck. Please. I need help. Oh god. Fuck I hate this._  
  
“Mr. Holmes,” he hears, and looks up to see a young doctor calling his name.  
  
 _Finally!  
  
_

_~*~_

Jason wakes up late with a smile on his lips. They had a late night out, and he doesn’t plan on doing anything strenuous this day. Just some laundry and then maybe going over to Jack's later, if he feels like it.

~*~

The doctor tells him to lay down on the bench behind the curtain. The ER is full, and every cubicle is filled. There’s bustling life with patients, doctors and worried family members taking care of their loved ones. Right now, if he could, he would want his mom here. It doesn’t matter how old he gets, momma is the best comfort.  
  
 _Oh fuck, he feels sick.  
  
_ “I feel sick,” he says, “I can’t find my puke bag.” He looks frantically. Fuck, he must have left it in the waiting room – or maybe he used them all?  
  
The doctor rises and  gets something from the shelves just outside the cubicle. “here,” he says and gives Jack a carton tray he can puke in. He’s able to keep it in.  
  
“Here’s the letter from my neurologist,” Jack says and hands a piece of paper to the doctor. He barely looks at it, taps at the keyboard of the computer, and then excuses himself. He leaves the cubicle, curtains left partly open, and tells Jack that he will be back in a second.  
  
 _Oh god, I need to throw up_ , fuck.  
  
He pokes his head out through the curtains and looks around to find the nearest sink. It’s one just a few feet down from him and he goes there to fill up his water bottle. Then he downs it in one go, just to throw it all up immediately after in the tray. He looks around to find a garbage bin to throw it in, but he cannot find one. _God, the smell._   He holds it with shaking hands and goes back into the cubicle, and keep holding it while he sit down on the chair.  
  
“I couldn’t find anywhere to get rid of this,” he says when the doctor returns. He has brought an older doctor with him, and it’s the oldest of them that guides him to a garbage container where he can rid himself of the nasty vomit. He walks back on shaky legs, and lays down on the bench. He curls up on the side and clutches his belly. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I’m just in so much pain. Please, diluadid?” He closes his eyes and just opens them up again when the older doctor says “We have flagged your file, sir.”    


~*~

Jason rings Jack’s doorbell, but no one answers. He tries calling him, but it goes  straight to voice mail. He has no choice but to turn around and go home. Too bad, he really wanted to sit tucked up under a blanket and watch a film with his boyfriend.

~*~

Jack arrives home a little over four hours after he left home this morning. He regrets even leaving home, and he’s devastated that he couldn’t get any help. He knows he’s able to get through this episode, there're probably not more than 5 hours left of it. But that is 5 hours too long. The pain cuts through bones and the nausea is worse than ever.  
  
He doesn’t bother with removing snow before he enters the house, he’s too exhausted just standing up. He struggles out of his clothing, one garment at a time, dropping each to the floor as he moves toward the bathroom. He crawls more than walks into the shower and turns on the water, as hot as he can stand it.  
  
His cold toes are burning when they come in contact with the hot water.  
  
The water flows over his belly, and the rush of relief washes over him when he feels the first signs of relief from the pain that day.   
  
He throws up in the bucket and lies down again. He gets a few minutes of rest before he needs to turn the dial to even warmer, and he throws up yet another time before he lies back down.   
  
He does this three more times before he falls asleep in the shower.  
  
He wakes up some thirty minutes later and notices the water is getting colder. He reaches up to turn off the water before he gets up on all fours. Grabbing the edge of the shower wall, he is able to get up on his feet without much problem. He grabs a towel to wrap around himself, and gets the hot water bottle he has stored in the cabinet below the sink. He sets the faucet to the warmest, and fills it up. He hopes he hasn’t used all the warm water, and that he has enough to keep him warm for a few hours, yet.  
  
He slams into the wall walking to bed, too exhausted to keep him up. He manages to find his bed, crawl up in it, and curl around the water bottle. Luckily, he falls asleep rather fast.

~*~

When Jack wakes up, he notice that his belly is all bruised from the hot water, and that he has 3 unanswered calls from Jason.

~*~

“Hello, Mrs Petersson,” Jason smiles and nods toward the customer. In front of him is one of the loyal customers who has been with him since the beginning. She had Miranda’s as her usual Monday treat and have a cup of tea, long back when it was Miranda herself who served her.   
  
“Good day, Jason,” she says with a smile. He has a feeling she would pinch his cheeks if she was able to reach him over the counter. She has known him since he was a kid, running around the neighborhood when he was visiting his grandparents during the summers. Her daughter went to school with his mother, and her grandchildren are his own age.  
  
She long had plans for her granddaughter to marry him, and she didn’t take the news that he was gay to be a bump in those plans. It wasn’t until her granddaughter married another man, that she accepted that the battle was lost.  
  
He tells her to go sit down, and he will bring her the usual.  
  
The usual consists of a danish and a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea. He puts two cubes of sugar on the side, and gives her a spoon to stir it in with. She will always sip the first taste from the tea spoon before she lifts the cup up with both hands to blow on it.  
  
Always the same routine. He wonders how long she has done it that way.  
  
“Say, young woman,” he smiles at her, “it’s not long until your birthday. Are you planning on having a big celebration? Not every day you turn eighty.”  
  
“No, and thank god for that. I think all this birthday fuss is a bit too much.”  
  
“Nah, it’s just what you deserve, being celebrated. It means there’re a lot of people in your life who care about you.”  
  
“True,” she nods, “I am lucky that way.”  
  
“So, are Katy and her kids coming home to celebrate?” Her granddaughter – and not his wife – has moved for her husband’s job. They get back a couple of times a year, but the family doesn’t see nearly as much of them as they would like.  
  
“Yes, they are coming over the weekend. They won’t be able to any extra days though, the kids have to get back to school. But we’ll do the celebration on Saturday”  
  
“I’m sure it will be wonderful,” Jason says and continues to work.  
  
It’s quiet, this time of day. The morning rush is over, and the lunch rush doesn’t start for another hour and a half. This is the time where he can catch up, and maybe recoup. Kate has just come to work and will work the last shift today, and use the time before the lunch rush to prepare for the increased demand on fresh sandwiches. He cleans all the tables, and goes into the back room to clean it all so that they are fully stocked before the students come in.  
  
It’s a good 30 minutes later when Kate finishes up the sandwiches, and he is putting up the last delivery of breads.   
  
“I’ll go down in the freezer room to pick up some more ciabattas and crossaints,” she says. He nods and looks up when he hears some customers finish up and leave. “Good bye,” he tells them, and goes to collect the dishes and clean the table where they sat.  
  
There's only Mrs Robbinson left now, and she too is about to finish up.  
  
“Leaving me so early?” he jokes in his usual way, like he always does when she is there.  
  
“You know I have to,” she smiles back and walks up to the counter. “But before I leave, I’d like to put in an order. Could you order a cake for me, for the 31st, one that serves around 30 people?”  
  
“Sure,” Jason says and gets out his order book. “What kind of cake do you want?”  
  
“Oh, I’ve always had a sweeth tooth, and I can’t help wanting the chocolate cake.”  
  
“One chocolate cake, serves 30,” he says and writes it all down. “Do you want it decorated in a special way, or some text on it?”  
  
“Oh, well, I can just was well do it right and have them write ‘Maggie, 80 years’ on it.” He writes it down and goes to say goodbye when he notice that she is stalling.  
  
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asks.  
  
“Well,” she says carefully, “I don’t want to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong but I am a bit worried.”  
  
“Worried? What about?” Jason asks not knowing where she wants to go with this.   
  
“Now, you know I hate to run around with gossip,” she says, and he nods – he knows that. "But I am a bit worried about that fine young man you have working here sometimes. The tall one?”  
  
“Jack?” he says, with a sinking feeling in his stomach.  
  
“Yes, that one,” she nods, “I happened to be at the ER yesterday.”  
  
“Oh, I'm sorry,” he says, “I hope you are okay?”   
  
“Yes, no I am fine, no worry about me. But I saw that young man there, and he was acting a bit--well...  Do you know if he’s on drugs?”  
  
“No,” Jason answers, feeling more and more worried.  
  
“Now, I don’t know any more about it, but this is what I saw. He wanted something called  
Dilaudid. That’s a narcotic. I know it, because that’s what my dear Alfred was on the last weeks in his life. The doctors clearly didn’t think he had any reason to have it, because they said they flagged his case file for being a drug-seeker, and they tossed him out. Now, I don’t always assume the doctors are right, but I did see with my own eyes that he drank a lot of water, then forcing himself to throw up, so that they would believe he was sick.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Jason asks, keeping as calm as possible, even though he is nowhere near calm, himself.  
  
“I am afraid so.” She nods, “And I wouldn’t normally tell you this, but I hate to see Miranda’s little grandson being mixed up with someone that has troubles like that.”  
  
She pats his hand and turns to leave.  
  
“Thanks for telling me,” he says, “and have a good day.”  
  
Jason feels cold all over when Mrs Petersson walks out the door. He stares after her, not really seeing her. _Fuck, this is bad.  
_  
There’s no customers left, and there is snow in the air. Everything seems so serene, but inside of him, there is chaos.   
  
“Kate,” he yells to the back room where he can hear her coming in with the new cartons of bake off goods. “Mind watching the shop for a while? I need to clear my head.”  
  
“Okay,” she pokes her head out through the back door, “anything bad happen?”  
  
“No, I….” he shakes his head, “I just have something to think about.”

~*~

He walks down to the park where the lake is frozen over. He wraps his coat closer around himself and goes to sit on a bench. He brushes the snow off the seat with his arm before sitting down, and regrets not bringing a warm cup of coffee.   
  
The cold bites him in the nose and he pulls his scarf up in front of his face, but regrets it the minute  condensation from his breath makes the scarf wet and uncomfortable.     
  
_God, don’t let it be drugs_.  
  
He doesn’t know what to think. There have been signs with Jack that he doesn’t know if they are consistent with drugs or not, but they are, at least, odd.  How he’s let his apartment go, for instance. How he’s never on top of cleaning and laundry anymore. And how often he's sick, headaches, he says. Jason wants to believe him, but it’s hard when Jack never wants to talk about it. He’s lying, Jason knows he’s lying, he just doesn’t understand why.  
  
 _Is this where I should cut lose?_  
  
He doesn’t want it to end. He doesn’t want to let Jack go, not without a fight. Not without giving him an opportunity to tell the truth.  
  
“Fuck,” he mutters when he feels the first tear fall. He hasn’t cried in years. Not even when his business was in danger and he had thought he would lose everything he'd invested, and had given up his dream of studying sports medicine for. “Fuck, we’re gonna get through this. This is not the end, this is just where we pull up our socks and start working.”

~*~

It takes three quarters of an hour before Jason steps into the shop again, half frozen to death, and with eyes red rimmed.   
  
“Oh my God, Jason,” Kate exclaims and runs over to grab his face between her hands to try and warm him up. “You look like you’re frozen through, have you been outside all this time? And not even dressed better than this?”  
  
“Yeah,” he stutters out through chattering teeth.   
  
“Here, get some warmth in you,” she says and makes him a steaming coffee. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Nothing,” he shakes his head. He doesn’t want to discuss this with anyone before he's given Jack the chance to come clean. “I can’t talk about it.”  
  
He can see  she’s fighting the urge to press him on it, but eventually she nods and agrees not to push, to wait until he’s ready to talk.

~*~

Valentine’s day falls on a Saturday, and that happens to be Jason’s Saturday off. Jason uses the Friday night preparing for his Valentine’s surprise for Jack. Jack though, has to work that day and expects them to have a date after work. Jason plans differently.   
  
He wants to make a special Valentine’s for Jack, so that he can show him that he is serious about him, before he presses any more about the subject Jack is still clearly avoiding. So he plans  to surprise Jack with breakfast, and a spectacular view of the sunrise. The sun will rise, according to the oracle called Internet, at 6:42 AM, and the weather is predicted to be clear and cold. The view should be spectacular.   
  
Jason’s house overlooks a concrete wall, but the view from Jack’s living room is not only in the right direction, but it’s also magnificent. The sunrise above the bay should be worth a view.  
  
He has sneaked in some frozen bake-off ciabattas in an old ice-box and hidden it far down in Jack’s deep freezer where he knows Jack won’t find it, and casually filled up his refrigerator with spread that he knows Jack likes, and enough of it, so that there are a slight chance that there are any left come Saturday morning.   
  
He's even packed a container of Luxury White Hot Chocolate for Jack, and some 70% cocoa hot chocolate for himself. He knows he should have some caffeine in there as well, to be less grumpy that early in the morning, but he also plans on going straight back to bed again as soon as Jack leaves for work.  
  
Now all he has to do is to trick Jack into letting him stay the night. That shouldn’t be too hard.  
   
~*~  
  
Jack is awakened by Jason kissing him beside his ear. He swats him away and tries to sleep some more.  
  
“Morning,” Jason says, still close by his ear.  
  
“m’ning,” Jack mumbles, “w’r up?”   
  
“What?” Jason laughs. It’s fucking annoying that Jason’s awake when Jack wants to sleep.  
  
“Why are you up?” he says, a little more coherent.  
  
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says.  
  
“What?”   
  
“Get up, it’s in your living room.”  
  
“awawug…,” he yawns loudly and does a full body stretch, “oh, okay.”  He pushes Jason away so that he can have space to sit up. That’s when he notices it, a burp and that awful taste. The nausea hits him immediately and he has no time to waste. “I’m gonna, I need to…” he says and runs to the bathroom. He barely gets there in time before he vomits violently, and if he’s not mistaken, he might have had a little leak in the other end as well.  
  
“Fuck,” he mutters.  
  
“Are you okay?” he hears Jason ask from the other side of the door. He can hear him coming closer.  
  
“Don’t come in!” he yells, before he has to vomit again.  
  
“I just want to check on you,” Jason says again.  
  
“No!!! Don’t come in!”  
  
“Jack? Please…” Jason opens the door, but barely get time to open it more than an inch before Jack pushes it closed again with all his power, “I SAID DON’T YOU FUCKING COME IN HERE! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?”  
  
Quiet.  
  
Not a word. It’s like time stands still, and Jack lies down on the floor. He needs to shower. And then wash the bathroom. And then probably shower again.  
  
“I don’t want you here,” he says, just loud enough for Jason to hear it through the door.  
  
“I wanna help you,” Jason says.  
  
“I don’t need your help, I just want to be left alone.”  
  
“Okay, I’ll wait in the living room,” Jason says and Jack can hear that he starts to move away from the door.  
  
“Jason?” He says, holding a hand on the handle, not sure if he should set the door ajar. He decides not to.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Can you leave, please?”  
  
“As in, leave the apartment?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Oh,” he says. Pausing. Jack isn’t sure if he’s about to say some more.  
  
“And Jason?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I think I can’t work today.”  
  
He can hear Jason walk around in his apartment, and then the steps gets closer until they stop outside the bathroom door.  
  
“I’m leaving now,” he says, loud enough for Jack to hear it. “I’ll cover your work.”  
  
“Okay,” Jack says back, “thank you.”  
  
He listens to the apartment door opens and closes, and then there is quiet. Just his own breathing.

~*~

He doesn’t start crying until he’s in the shower.  This was not how he wanted it. He didn’t want Jason to see this. He wanted to tell him first, to explain. But then he fucked up.  
  
The water is getting cold and he knows it’s time to go back to bed. Time to get some sleep. Time for him to sleep instead of Jason – Jason that now has to work because of him.  
  
Fuck.  
  
He hates this.  
  
He stops in his steps on the way back to bed. On the floor in his living room is a scene that’s been abandoned. There are the furniture pushed away, and the blanket he had thrown over his couch is spread out on the floor. There is a basket of chiabattas on a tray with a selection of spreads and two cups of now cold chocolates. And there are candle-lights no longer burning.   
  
“Shit,” he says, and starts crying again. “I really fucked up this time.”  


~*~

Things are tense between him and Jason, and even though he had apologized and Jason had said it was okay, they are still tiptoeing around each other. Jason hasn’t asked to sleep over again, and Jack hasn’t offered.  
  
He takes his lunch in the back room, instead of at the side bar chatting with Jason, and he doesn’t have anyone to talk with in here. He starts turning pages in one of Kate’s magazines that she has left in here. It’s one of those glossy magazines with a TV guide at the end. He checks to see if there’s anything on this week.  
  
“Hm,” he mumble and picks up his phone. He doesn’t have the best connection in here, and it take a bit before he has the desired web page up on his screen. “Okay,” he says and make a note of a time and date. “This can work. I guess we have a plan.”  


~*~

  
  
The fifth day of March finds them lounging on Jason’s couch, pizza on the table half eaten. Jason isn’t hungry, hasn’t been for a while, and Jack is too nervous to take a bite. His stomach is in knots.  
  
“Not hungry?” Jason asks and he says something about no appetite.   
  
Had it been a few weeks earlier, Jason would have said something to tease him, now he just shrugs.  
  
Jack fiddles with his cellphone and waits for the clock to turn to 9:00PM. When it finally does, he asks, “Mind if I switch?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, but switches the channels to ABC.   
  
“Sure,” Jason says, looking at him sideways, “didn’t know you watched that.”  
  
“I don’t,” he says.  
  
The mood is weird, the way it’s been for a while. They went out the previous weekend, both of them taking the Saturday off, to celebrate Jason’s birthday. He wanted it to be a special day, to show Jason that he is the most important person in Jack's life. Instead they ended up having an awkward date at a fancy restaurant, where they both played the part of happy boyfriends, but where they both walked on eggshells around each other.   
  
He’s noticed how Jason has stopped trying as much as he used to. He used to touch him, not necessarily in an especially romantic way. But just letting his hand linger a little longer on his shoulder when he passed him at work, or caressing his cheek when he kissed him. But he doesn’t do that now. Not as much as he used to. It’s clear that Jason is trying harder, that he has to work at it, like it’s not second nature for him anymore.  
  
He never thought he would be used to someone this soon. They haven’t been together more than 6 months, and already being with Jason is the most natural thing in the world, as though that’s where he belongs.  
  
Normally, they would twine their legs together and always touch each other. Whether it’s holding hands, leaving a hand casually on the other’s thigh, leaning towards each other, something. Not this. Not sitting at the opposite ends of the couch staring hard at the screen, pretending to be invested in Grey’s Anatomy, a show neither of them follows.   
  
On the screen Santa is throwing up, and Jack thinks how odd it is to see Santa in March.   
  
“God, I’m tired,” Jason says, “you tired?”  
   
“Yeah,” he says, not taking his eyes off the screen. Santa is throwing up again, and a guy is trying to get him thrown out of the ER.  
  
“Yuck,” Jason says, and scrunches his nose.  “I’m eating. This is gross.”  
  
 “It’s CVS,” Jack says, heart’s pounding.  
  
“What?” Jason says.  
  
“Santa,” he says and points toward the TV, “he’s got CVS.”  
  
“And that’s….?”  
  
“Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome,” Jack says.  
  
“And how do you know this, Dr. Holmes?” Jason mocks him and fist bumps him in the shoulder.  
  
“That’s what I have,” he says under his breath.  
  
“Say what?”  
  
“That’s what I've got…,” he says, louder this time.  
  
“You? That’s why you…….?”  
  
“Yeah, CVS.”  
  
“Hm,” Jason says and sits up straight. He reaches for the remote control and hits ‘record’ to save the episode on the harddrive. He watches as Santa, true to Jack’s words, is diagnosed with Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome.   
  
Jack keeps his eyes on Jason, screen only a blur in the background. The thoughts rushing through his mind. Will he leave now? Will he be disgusted? Is this it?  
  
The episode ends and Jason turns off the TV. Jack keeps staring at him, Jason still keeps his eyes on the now black TV. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, and finally he looks him in the eyes.  
  
“I was scared,” Jack answers, now it’s his time to evade his eyes.  
  
 “Why?”  
  
“It’s vomiting,” he says, finally looking up.  
  
“Yeah,” Jason says. He could just as well say “duh” with the kind of tone he used. Somehow that annoys Jack.  
  
“And diarrhea,” he continues, hoping Jason gets it this time.  
  
“Yeah, okay,” Jason waits for him to continue, still showing him a blank face. Jack doesn’t know how to read him. He’s used to being able to read him, now he’s lost. Now he’s afraid. He’s afraid of taking the wrong step.  
  
He doesn’t know what to say, so he stays silent.  
  
“But why…” Jason says. He doesn’t yell. Maybe it had been better if he yelled? Maybe he’s calm because he’s given up. Maybe he doesn’t care any longer?   
  
“That’s… that’s not exactly something you want to talk about,” Jack shrugs and look away.  
  
“Doesn’t want to talk about?” Jason say. Finally some emotions. “Doesn’t _want_ to talk about? What the fuck?” Jason gets up from the sofa now, start pacing the room and throwing his hands in the air. Guess the pent up emotions are finally breaking free.  
  
“I was just….”  
  
“No, no…,” Jason shakes his head, “you don’t get make excuses. What you have done to me. What you have made me feel… You didn’t _want_ to talk about it…. That wasn’t a choice! That shouldn’t have been a choice! That’s not something you want or don’t want, that’s something you have to do. Don’t want, my ass….” He’s yelling now.   
  
“I didn’t want to burden you with it….” Jack gets to his feet too, starts gesturing with his own hands, trying to calm Jason down, but that just seems to make it worse. He’s looming and takes a step back, sensing that using his height would not be the best choice at the moment. His throat is choking up, his eyes are watering and he feels like the bottom is falling out beneath him. He sits down on the couch again, slumping together, letting his head fall into his hands.  
  
“I didn’t want you to see me,” he says, but Jason just shakes his head, still pacing angrily back and forth in front of him. “Dignity,” he says, more breathing it than giving it voice.  
  
“What?” Jason says, stopping now that he has to be still to hear what Jack has to say.  
  
“Dignity,” he says again, chocking on his own words, “there’s no fucking dignity in CVS.”

~*~

  
“Listen,” Jason says, he has never in his life seen a man Jack’s size look more fragile. “I wouldn’t….”   
  
Jack interrupts him, grabbing his hand. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”   
  
Jason lets himself be pulled down in the couch again, now facing Jack and not the TV.  
  
“I know you're the one who's sick,” he says, not wanting to sound overbearing to Jack.  “I know that! I got that you think this is something that you should bear alone, that you shouldn’t burden me with, but you can’t.”  
  
“No,” Jason says when Jack tries to interrupt, “you can’t! I know you have tried to shield me from it, and even though I’m kind of angry because of it, I also appreciate you trying. I know you did it because you thought that was the right thing to do. But even though you try to carry this all on your own, I will still be affected. I _am_ affected, whether you like it or not! Our relationship is a symbiosis of you and me,” he points his finger between the two of them, “and as long as either one of us is sick, it will affect _our relationship_.”  
  
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Who wants to be in a relationship with a sick person? I mean – every sane person would want to have a relationship where a stupid condition doesn’t fuck things up for them all the time. So I don’t want CVS to affect our relationship. I want to do whatever I can to prevent it from affecting us. Because I….,” he chokes on his words, and brushes away the tears that are threatening to fall.  
  
“Because what?” Jason   
  
“Because I don’t want you to run away.”  
  
“I’m not…”  
  
“I just wanted you to like me. I just wanted that so very much,” Jack can’t hold the tears back anymore, and his eyes start leaking. “I just wanted you to like me.”    
  
 _There’s no dignity in CVS_ , he gets it now. Jason can’t stay away anymore. He moves closer and pulls Jack into a hug. “I do! I do like you!”   
  
“I just got so scared,” Jack whispers, so quietly that Jason can barely catch the words, and he pulls him even closer, just holding him the best he can.  


~*~

“You know – you're kind of stupid, aren’t you?”  
  
Jason’s question comes out of the blue. They're sitting close together on the sofa, both exhausted after the emotional turmoil that finally calmed down about half an hour ago. Jack has cried in Jason’s arms, and Jason has only teased him about it a tiny bit. Once the feelings had calmed down, Jack’s hunger had come back with a vengeance, and he had more or less inhaled the by-then cold pizza. Once the worst of his hunger was sated, he had leaned back and just enjoyed sitting closely nestled with his boyfriend.  
  
“What?” he says and turns his head to watch his boyfriend’s face.  
  
“You really thought I would leave you, didn’t you?”  
  
“I don’t know what I thought,” he says honestly. And that had been the biggest problem, he had no idea whatsoever how Jason would take his news. Now that he's seen that Jason didn’t run, Jack regrets not saying anything sooner. That would have spared them both lots of worry.  
  
“Okay, so here I thought you had cancer,…”  
  
“Nope, no cancer, thank God….”  
  
“…or was a drug addict, or….”  
  
“Wha…wait!! You thought I was a drug addict? What in hell gave you that idea?”  
  
“Ah, well…Remember Mrs Robertsson, always buys a danish and Earl Grey?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“She saw you at the ER, and this is her description, okay? She said that you had made yourself sick and asked for something called diddelidoo.”  
  
“Dilaudid.”  
  
“Yeah, that.”  
  
“I didn’t make myself sick, it’s just because the stomach acid is so strong. With CVS we don’t stop throwing up even though the stomach is empty. It’s not a gut-disorder; it’s a brain-gut disorder. We don’t stop vomiting even if the stomach is empty. We keep retching anyway, and that’s painful. It’s less painful if we fill up with water. It dilutes the acid, that’s all.”  
  
“Ah, okay. But that’s not the point. The point is, I thought all of this, but NEVER did I think of leaving you! I was scared, I was worried, and I was angry, but I never thought of leaving you. All I cared about was what I had to do to help you. So, you know… you don’t get rid of me that easily.”  
  
“Good to know.”  
  
“Yeah, ‘cause, you know…. I kind of love you.”  
  
“Yeah?” Jack can see the flicker of worry in Jason’s eyes, and makes sure to smile at him. “I love you, too.”  
  
“..you know…” Jason continues, as if they hadn’t just declared their love for each other for the first time, “…even though you are stupid. I guess I'll just have to learn to live with that.”  
  
“Guess you will,” Jack agrees and starts munching on another slice of pizza.  
  
 **Two years ago**  
  
 _“Let’s see,” the doctor says and unfolds the paper Jack has brought with him. “Guidelines on how to treat Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome,” he reads. “I have never heard of it before,” he says.  
  
“I know,” Jack answers, “it's the same with most of the other doctors I’ve seen. Kind of weird though,” he adds, “considering the prevalence is estimated to be not that small.”  
  
“Yeah,” the doctor nods, “underdiagnosed.  Most doctors simply aren’t aware that it exists. But thank you for this,” he says and waves the printed paper in his hand, “with this I’ll hopefully be able to help _ you _at least.”_  



	4. EPILOGUE

Jack sits on the pier, letting his feet dangle in the water. Jason and he have been together a year this month, and they have decided to combine their anniversary with a visit to Jason’s family in Texas. Kate is minding the shop, along with students eager to earn some money over the summer, so that both Jack and Jason can take two weeks off. They spend the first week with Jason’s family, and the other they will spend at a hotel, focusing only on each other.  
  
“Here,” Jason says, and startles Jack. He hadn’t heard him coming, being caught up in his own thoughts.   
  
They have been through quite a journey. It’s been ups and downs.   
  
“Thank you,” he says and grabs the cup Jason holds out to him. There are no milky coffee drinks with fancy names, just him, Jason and pure black coffee in an old thermos.  
  
“What are you thinking about?” Jason asks, and takes a sip of his coffee.  
  
Telling Jason about CVS was one thing, he was glad it was out there. But hearing it and living it is two different things. They had a few fights until Jack was able to explain as well as he could about how fatigued he gets when he’s cycling. If there have been enough episodes, he starts having fatigue even between the episodes. Other symptoms may also bleed into the so-called symptom-free periods of a CVS cycle.   
  
In the beginning, Jason was very careful not to hurt Jack when he got frustrated, but even Jason isn’t a saint. He gets annoyed as well, and when he does, he doesn’t always mind his words. And Jack can be a bit touchy about this subject. It took them at least five fights until they realized they needed a talk to clear things up.  
  
“You need to let me be angry, too,” Jason had said one day when Jack was tired from throwing up all day, and Jason was tired from covering for him at work.  
  
“But you said you aren’t angry at me for being sick. Do you think I _want_ this?”  
  
“I’m not angry at you,” Jason had said, “I’m angry at CVS. I’m angry at what it does to you, and I am angry at what it does to me, because I am the one who's in a relationship with you. But it doesn’t change the fact that I still love _you_ just as much. I love you, I just hate CVS.”  
  
And Jack hadn’t understood until that day that Jason also had the need to be angry, some days. He too has his days when he is bitter that this fucks up their plans over and over. And he hadn’t understood that until he was able to separate his own identity from this illness. He wasn’t giving Jason the room he needed to be angry. He’s still working on it. It’s getting better, but they still have their days when they fight about this.  
  
 “Are you happy?” Jack asks.  
  
“Yeah,” Jason smiles and pulls Jack closer.  
  
“Thank you,” Jack says, and gives Jason a peck on the cheek.  
  
“What for?”  
  
“For being so great. For covering for me all the time at work. I feel like the worst kind of employee. Especially April and May, that was bad.”  
  
“I didn’t do it for my employee,” he says.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Covering your hours,” Jason says and puts down his coffee. He grabs Jack’s hand and plays with his fingers. “Do you think you are the only one allowed to work extra to help your boyfriend? I can do that, too.”  
  
“Yeah,” Jack says, looking out on the lake and laughing at some kids splashing the water and making a lot of noise.   
  
“So, tell me,” Jason says again, “what were you thinking about when I came down here? You looked miles away."  
  
Jack thinks about the tough episodes he had in April and May, when he never could get the medications to work. When he was sick more and more often, and when he and Jason fought more and more. And he thinks about how the episodes suddenly stopped.  
  
At first, he couldn’t believe his luck. Then he started to hope. Then, after 8 weeks with no vomiting, he finally dares to say the word out loud, “remission.”

 

**~ THE END ~  
  
**

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> I wrote this story in honor of 5 March 2015, which happens to be the first ever International Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome Awareness Day.
> 
> Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome is an unexplained disorder that is most often is seen in children but can occur in all ages. The condition is characterized by recurrent, prolonged attacks of severe nausea, violent vomiting and prostration with no apparent cause. In some there is severe abdominal pain. 
> 
> Many different conditions can cause recurrent vomiting. In most cases however, CVS can be differentiated from other conditions causing vomiting by three main features: paroxysmal (sudden onset), stereotypical episodes and periods of wellness in-between.
> 
> 1) Paroxysmal (sudden onset): Most patents with CVS feel fairly well, until they suddenly get an attack of nausea, which usually progresses to vomiting a little later. The nausea and vomiting often start in the morning, and can even wake the patient from sleep.  
> 2) Stereotypical episodes means that each vomiting attack resembles similar episodes they’ve had previously. Most often the attacks last between 8 and 24 hours. However, it can be as brief as 1-2 hours, and for others they can last up to days.  
> 3) Most patients feel completely well between episodes. The period of wellness between episodes is between 1 – 3 months for most patients. However, some patients will have more frequent episodes (every 1- 3 weeks), and others will have episodes that occur rarely (every 6 – 12 months)
> 
> Patients can have many other symptoms during an attack, including listlessness, paleness, weight loss, diarrhea, high blood sugar, reduced urine output and abnormal blood chemistries. 
> 
> If you want to read more about CVS you can find information here: www.cvsaonline.no.


End file.
